


With Gifts of Gold

by omarandjohnny



Series: Of Beasts and Fire [5]
Category: Jonah Hex (2010), The Lone Ranger (2013)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M, Western, Wild wild West, big bada boom, cannibal and arsonist in love, makes me feel like riverdancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-18
Updated: 2014-12-18
Packaged: 2018-03-02 01:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2794730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/omarandjohnny/pseuds/omarandjohnny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a bit of holiday warm fuzzies, Butch/Burke style ;)</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Gifts of Gold

**Author's Note:**

> Another non-linear, day in the life fic.

"Hot damn!" 

Frank hop-skipped backwards as the first stick of dynamite blew away the rear entrance of the factory. Burke had been stockpiling for his supply of explosives for weeks, knowing they would reach the desired destination just in time for the holiday. Each stick had been placed inside with a specific job to do. The back doors, the broken down wagons within, all four corners; every sweet spot found and marked for the "show."

"I warned ya, pet, you're too close!" Burke shook his head, laughing. Frank continued to quickstep above the reverberations of the blasts, much like a small child attempting to escape the cold foam of the tide.

Butch leaned backwards, resting his elbows against the horse blanket on the ground. He observed the giddiness of his partner, how Burke was obviously making an effort not to dance in time with each explosion. This was not his standard set of a two-a-town housefires. This was something else, _something special._

"Frank, damn fool! Get back," Butch yelled. There was no anger lacing his growl, however. He merely wanted an unobstructed view of the fire. He had come to appreciate the beauty of Burke's handiwork, how the crazed Irishman would paint the desert orange whenever he had the chance. Now, amongst the flaming carnage of the abandoned factory, he found a momentary calm. He rose from the ground, and walked to where Burke stood.

"Well, them wet brains down at the midnight service sure got a hell of a jolt," Butch remarked as he brushed a hand against Burke's arm. He felt Burke tremble as he laughed.Without warning, Burke swooped around Butch's back, and rested his head in the crook of Butch's shoulder. Not wanting to spoil what was obviously a well-thought out gift, Butch stowed any misgivings regarding their current intimate position.

They both stared into the crackling blaze, Burke choosing to keep a remark to himself (it seemed to.him that the crook of Butch's shoulder felt custom molded to cradle his inky chin), deciding instead to silently revel at the increased pace of Butch's pulse. To comment on either would be far too sentimental, and would warrant a scoff, if not a slap. All the same, Burke was grateful for the time he was given to linger in the warm hollow of Butch's shoulder. 

As Barret and Frank loaded the horses to leave, Butch grunted at them to "go'n ahead" so he could steal a moment of his own. He could feel the corner of Burke's smile rise against his neck, and yanked the tattooed man around to face him. Head spinning, Burke let out a happy bark of laughter, and looked Butch in the eyes.

"And what'd ye get me for Christmas, sweetheart?" Burke queried, and his answer came in the form of a long, deep kiss.

END.


End file.
